


Tomboy princess

by EleanorC



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, High Elf King Kyle, Kenny genderbend, Princess Kenny McCormick, Stick of Truth AU, sp k2 week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-15 06:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15407289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanorC/pseuds/EleanorC
Summary: At age ten, Crown Prince Kyle Broflovski of Larnion has been introduced to enough princesses to know they are the most boorish creatures in the world, and he isn't thrilled to have another forced on him.Princess Kenleigh McCormick of Zaron is about to show him not all princesses enjoy talking about lace while drinking tea.Little do they know politics are about to complicate their newfound friendship.





	1. Playing

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of my K2 week submission, which will be a single story, one chapter for each prompt. 
> 
> Chapter one prompt: Playing. 
> 
> PS this is not beta'd, please bear with me. I apologize for any screaming grammar or spelling errors I overlooked myself (feel free to point them out).

The first time Prince Kyle lays eyes on her, he knows his world will never be the same. Even _his_ ten-year old mind is aware how ridiculous that sounds and tells him he’s being dramatic, but the moment he sees her, he knows something will change.

He complained the entire journey to Kupa Keep, not seeing why his father insisted on him coming along to meet with the human royal family of their neighboring country. His protests fell on deaf ears, however, as High Elf King Gerald Broflovski was not to be dissuaded.  There were important meetings to be held and it was important for the first in line to the throne of Larnion to start making connections that would ‘stabilize his future’.

Kyle isn’t stupid, he knows what that means. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s been thrown into a playroom with some snobby princess from another country, while their parents discuss their futures. He is completely prepared for yet another two weeks of boredom, drinking tea and eating sweets while the girl prattles on about lace and dolls and who knows what else.

Kyle usually tunes them out by that point, knowing that the batting of eyes and the shy smiles aren’t really a compliment to him, but a habit drilled into high-bred ladies in order to reel boys like him in.

He’s determined not to fall for it.

But then he is introduced to Princess Kenleigh McCormick of Zaron.

She does everything the others did, and yet it feels different. She curtsies with the right amount of respect, stands with perfect posture and speaks with a clear voice and perfect pronunciation, and yet there’s an energy in her eyes as she looks at Kyle that gives him hope that this time will be different.  

Which is why Kyle has to suppress a sigh as they are led to yet another tea party. Why humans have such an obsession with the stuff he will never know. Especially all the sickeningly sweet pastries that come with it.

A giggle to his right alerts him to the fact that he _has_ actually let a sigh slip through, but as he opens his mouth to apologize for his rudeness, the princess shakes her head slightly, places one finger over her lips, and winks.

Kyle has never seen a princess or lady wink before.

As they sit down and the tea is poured for them, the princess lets out a small gasp, placing her hand over her chest and looking at the maid.

“My dear Charlotte, pray tell, what mixture did the cook use for the tea today?” she asks, panic clear in her high pitched voice, and Kyle decides that he was wrong, this princess is just as bad as the others.

The maid stops pouring. “I believe the cook decided on the blend sent from the Blue Coast by Princess Heidi.”

Kyle feels a bit lost as Princess Kenleigh frowns delicately. “Well that just won’t do. That blend contains lavender, which the prince is allergic to, what’ll we do if something happened to him?’

Kyle is not aware of any such allergies, and is about to voice that when a gentle tap against his shoe makes him catch the glance the princess is throwing his way.

Oh.

“I am indeed quite sensitive to that flower, my father will take great offense if I fall ill for coming into contact with it here,” Kyle says, feeling bad for the maid who looks utterly horrified.

“I beg your pardon Your Highness, the kitchen staff was not aware,” she says, clearing up the china set completely. “I will return with another blend immediately.”

The moment the door closes behind the maid, leaving Kyle and the princess alone, she’s on her feet.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the princess says, making her way to the balcony.

Kyle lags for a second, adjusting to the change in voice from the princess, who has dropped all the stuffiness, leaving a much more pleasant tone to listen to. By the time he does get up, the princess is opening the balcony door with surprising ease.

“Go where?” He asks, thoroughly confused by the sudden change in conduct in the princess.

“Anywhere they won’t force us to sit still and drink tea for hours on end,” she answers as she starts to hike her skirts up in order to climb onto the balcony wall.

Kyle instinctively reaches out, not sure whether to help her climb or to urge her to be more modest, “Princess, I don’t thi—”

“Kenny.”

Kyle drops his hands back to his sides. “What?”

Kenny finishes pushing up to the balcony wall, standing and turning to look down at Kyle. “My name, it’s Kenny. We’re both the same rank, so I won’t have all that stupid etiquette bullshit.” Kyle feels his jaw drop at her words, and Kenny grins, offering him a hand. “So you call me Kenny, and I’ll call you Kyle, now climb up so we can get out of here.”

Kyle has to readjust his views of Kenny again. He’s been wrong, or more accurately, he’d been right the first time; she _is_ different from other princesses. So he smiles and takes the hand the princess is offering, shamelessly allowing a girl to pull him up.

Thirty minutes later Kyle and Kenny are running through the gardens, struggling not to giggle in delight as they can hear the palace guard looking for them. Kenny has a rip in her skirt from climbing down the vines next to the balcony, and Kyle is sure his mother will be yelling at him for literal hours for this stunt when he comes back to the capitol, but as Kenny grabs his hand and shows him the gardens of Kupa Keep, that seems like a distant future.

It takes all of three days for the staff of both royal families to accept that Prince Kyle and Princess Kenny aren’t interested in well-bred entertainment. It takes two more days for Kyle to discover that Kenny is better than him with a bow and arrow.

Kyle is grumpy about that for half a day, until Kenny approaches him with a shy smile, asking if he can show her elven magic. When he sees her delighted smile at his meager attempts at wind magic, lifting flower petals to dance around her, he feels better about losing in archery.

Kyle still decides he needs to practice more on return though. Both to avoid losing at archery again and to impress Kenny more with his magic next time. He even considers showing her the magic he excels at, but his father always warned him that the plant magic that is unique to the Broflovski’s is to be shown to as little people as possible.

By the eighth day, Kyle decides that princess Kenny is the best princess out there. She isn’t afraid to dirty her dress while playing, doesn’t filter her mouth when they’re alone, is infinitely mischievous, and has the best play ideas.

Not even Kyle’s best friend Stan back home is this carefree around him, always aware of Kyle’s rank. 

They are sitting at the edge of one of the garden fountains, a basket with fruits, nuts and cheese between them, courtesy of Kenny sweet-talking the cooks wife into giving them a snack, when Kenny jumps up, pokes Kyle in the shoulder and whispers, “You’re it,” before running off in the direction of the rose labyrinth.

Kyle, who had been mid-bite on a piece of bread with a creamy honey cheese on top, glances at his treat with regret for half a second, then throws it in the basket and runs after Kenny.

They have explored this particular maze before, and though Kenny appears to have the obvious advantage of having seen it countless times, Kyle is an elf, and grew up in a forest. He has a perfect memory for these types of environments, and while Kenny is better at archery, she hasn’t learned how to hunt, or by extension how to track.

He feels a grin spread across his face as he turns a corner and hears Kenny’s telltale giggle. When he catches her, she gives him only a five second head-start, both still out of breath from the first round. They don’t care. It’s a beautiful spring day, just warm enough to not need a coat but not too stifling to play and run, and as Kyle runs after Kenny for the umpteenth time that week, he allows himself to believe, for just a second, this might last forever.

An explosion from the direction of the castle destroys that belief almost instantly. As Kyle rounds the corner to the exit of the labyrinth, he nearly runs into Kenny, who has stopped in her tracks, staring at the inferno before her.

The northern wing of the castle is engulfed in flames, servants running in all directions as the metal clanging of sword on sword is heard from inside.  Kyle stands next to Kenny, barely registering when she grabs his hand. He looks over at her, to see the tears in her eyes.

The northern wing is the personal wing of the family, Kyle knows. Both Kenny’s siblings would be in there. She takes a step forward, but Kyle stands his ground, his eyes having caught his personal guard, fully equipped for battle coming around the corner. He gets a bad feeling about it all as he sees the expressions on their faces in the distance.

He quickly pulls Kenny out of sight, around a corner in the maze and back towards the edge. When Kenny opens her mouth to speak he shushes her, and focuses on the voices of the soldiers.

“You sure they are here?” One voice asks, Kyle recognizes it as Sir Valmer’s, whose son is one of Kyle’s playmates.

“The grand wizard saw them playing here a couple of hours ago,” another answers.

“If the King finds out we lost track of his son on the day of the operation, he’ll have our heads.”

Kyle looks at Kenny only to find her staring at him with wide eyes as well, an unasked question ringing clear between them.

Did his father do this?

Kyle snaps his attention back to the soldiers as they continue talking.

“We need to find the princess too, the McCormick’s cannot be forgiven for their treachery, their line ends today,” one of them says, “the others are all dealt with already.”

Kyle’s blood runs cold as he feels Kenny’s hand slip from his. He looks over to see a single tear run over her cheek and, before Kyle can warn her not to, she lets out a sniff.

The soldiers on the other side of the hedge stop talking, and Kyle’s mind goes into overdrive as the soldiers all start talking at the same time.

“WHO’S THERE?” Valmer thunders through the hedges.

“There’s an entrance here, they have nowhere to go.”

“You hear that? You can’t run, so just come to the exit.”

Kyle turns to the exit, unsure of what to do. But Kenny sniffs again and he becomes aware of what will happen if those men, his soldiers, find her.

The thought fills him with rage, and in his fury he feels the magic building, allowing him to execute the best solution his ten year old self can come up with.

He turns, briefly wraps his arms around Kenny to whisper a single word to her, then he pushes her away, deeper into the labyrinth. He grabs the rose bushes on either side, ignoring the pain as the thorns pierce his skin.

Kyle doesn’t take his eyes of Kenny as he starts chanting in high elvish, a language barely used anymore. He’s never tried casting a spell this big, but unlike wind magic, plant magic comes naturally to him. He closes his eyes, envisioning the layout of the labyrinth, changing it to his will.

As he opens his eyes, the last thing he sees before a new wall of bushes closes between them is Kenny’s tear stained face.

“KENNY!” Prince Kyle shoots upright, panting as the visions of his dream linger in his mind. He drags his hand over his brow, frowning as he feels the cold sweat transferring to his hand.

Ten years, and Kyle still dreams about the days he spent in Kupa Keep. Ten years in which Kupa Keep has fallen, and is now under the jurisdiction of Larnion. In which humans have been under elf rule, for the better of all according to his father. In which Kyle refused any further attempt to find him a queen, and has become famous across the realm for his skills in combat, adding swordsmanship to archery and magic.

Ten years in which Prince Kyle of Larnion wondered if his last word to Princess Kenleigh of Zaron would be, “Run.”


	2. Rebel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, Kyle and Kenny still struggle to deal with the consequences of the fall of Kupa Keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I forgot to mention, I am sorta playing around with writing styles and pov's with this, so each chapter might be written in a slightly different way. Let me know if it's distracting ^^.

The wind rustles the leaves, hiding the sound of breathing the cloaked figure in the tree makes from the unsuspecting elves below. M would chuckle at the arrogance of the other species if it wouldn’t give away his position.

Still, the assumption of the elves that nothing can see better than them in the dark, and by extension that nothing can hide from them, works in his advantage. Just like the cloudy sky is an advantage to him, blocking out the weak light normally provided by the starts, preventing him from casting a shadow.

There are only three guards with this particular group. All three of which don’t have their bow strung.

It makes M wonder if this carriage even has anything useful to take, but he decides it doesn’t matter. Any blow against the knife-ears is good.

He slowly redistributes his weight on the branch he is balancing on, pulling an arrow attached to a rope from his quiver in a fluid and soundless motion.

He focusses on breathing evenly as he notches the arrow and draws the bow.

Breath in. He aims at the guard furthest at the back.

Breath out. A nocturnal birds cries, causing the elf to look up.

M lets the arrow fly.

 

“Your Highness, are you even listening?”

Kyle shocks out of his musings and looks at his father’s right hand man. “I apologize, Sir Valmer. I was not.”

“Any particular reason why you are so distracted today, Your Highness?”

Kyle shrugs, knows it’ll earn him a frown from the older man, but doesn’t care.

“When will Stan return from his mission?” he asks to distract Valmer.

When Kyle gets no answer he frowns, noticing Valmer’s expression shift to something that borders on guilty. “Where is Stan, Valmer.” This time it’s a demand.

“He returned two days ago, Your Highness,” Valmer says, “but he is still banned from guarding you since the incident.”

Kyle fights to keep his expression neutral, consciously relaxing the muscles in his face. He has gotten better at hiding his emotions over the years, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still boil on the inside.

“Where is he stationed now?”

“I am not allowed to share that information with you, Your Highness.”

“Says who?” Kyle is getting really tired of people keeping him away from the people he actually likes.

“Me.” The voice behind Kyle is one he almost knows better than his own, if only because he’s had to sit and listen to his father lecture him for hours and hours through the years.

Kyle turns to look at his father, considers keeping up pretenses, then decides Valmer knows full well how the king and his son interact.

“Why?” he just asks.

“Because he distracts you from what is important. And he goes too easy on you.”

_Tell that to the three week old bruise on my stomach_ , Kyle thinks, but he just rolls his eyes at his father, knowing it infuriates him. “Don’t lie father, it’s because he’s human.”

Then he walks past his father straight to the stables, ignoring his calls to come back. When two guards try to follow, a quick flick of his wrist causes them to trip over tree roots that hadn’t been there just a second before.

 

“Ken!”

Kenny looks up and smiles as a younger girl comes running in her direction. “Hey Kare, What’s up?”

“There’s this old guy that wants to talk to you, says he can help with… stuff,” Karen falters as she looks behind Kenny, jaw setting and eyes growing wide.

Kenny doesn’t need to look to know what’s behind her, but she pulls a polite smile onto her face, and turns to face the elven knight on a stag anyway. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

The knight smiles, happy to have found someone who cooperates, or so he thinks. He grabs a roll of parchment from one of his satchels and hands it over to Kenny, who unrolls it only to look at a sketch of what is supposed to be her own face. She sees Karen tense further in her peripheral vision, but schools her expression into one of curious confusion.

“We hear rumors that this man was spotted nearby over the last couple of nights, any information on him would be greatly appreciated,” the knight supplies when Kenny doesn’t say anything.

Kenny looks down at the sketch of M again, noting that the jaw is too wide, with scruff growing over it. “Well, I haven’t seen anything but I work at the tavern, I could put it up there, maybe some of the travelers know more.”

That earns Kenny one of those brilliant smiles elves save for when they are trying to seem friendly. Too bright and yet not reaching their eyes. “That would be very helpful, miss.”

Kenny curtsies and turns to leave, smile dropping the moment her back is turned. As she and Karen round the corner to the tavern, she hands the wanted poster over to her adoptive sister. “Is it bad that I feel offended they assume M is a man?” she asks under her breath.

“Well, you do kind off act and sound like one when you put the cowl on,” Karen giggles and shakes her head, looking down at the poster. “They upped the bounty again.”

Kenny heaves a sigh, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and opening the door to the tavern. “I wish they wouldn’t. Where is this old man you spoke of?”

Karen points towards the back, where a large, old man is sitting, eating a generous helping of the game Kenny struggled to collect. Kenny knows this man, has seen him often enough when she still lived in the castle, but has never spoken to him.

Still, he might recognize her, and that is always a problem.

“Did he ask for Kenny or for M?” Kenny asks as they make their way to the bar.

“Neither,” Karen says as she smacks the poster on the bar, leaving Red to cock an eyebrow before shaking her head in exasperation and taking the poster to replace the previous one. “He asked for Lady McCormick.” The last part is a whisper so soft, even Kenny has to strain to hear it over the music of the tavern.

Kenny straightens. “Right.”

 

“Are you really sure this is a good idea, Kyle?”

Kyle takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his patience with his best friend.

“Oh, come on, Stan, you know as well as I do there’s no changing his mind once he gets like this.”

Maybe Kyle ought to rethink his friends, like his father wants him to so badly.

“I know, Ike, but still…” Stan trails of, seemingly not sure where to go with that sentence, and Kyle has had enough.

“Would both of you shut up for a bit.” He turns on his black stallion to glare at Stan, riding a dark brown mare, followed by his hound, and Ike, the ice elemental lazily floating along on his back, reading a book, not even watching where he’s going. “I’ve been hearing these rumors about the villages in Zaron. Dad won’t tell me what’s going on, he’s too focused on finding the stick, so I need to find out for myself.”

Ike glances in his direction briefly before looking back at his book. “You just want to find that M guy and prove you’re better at shooting arrows.”

Stan tries, and fails, to suppress a guffaw of laughter, earning him yet another glare from Kyle, who feels his face heating up slightly at the accusation.

“Remind me why I keep you summoned at times like this?” He asks Ike, already knowing the answer.

“Because I’m the one that told you these rumors in the first place.” Kyle really has to wonder how a hothead like himself ended up with an emotionless ice elemental as his personal summon.

“Right.” Kyle adjusts himself on his mount, wishing he could have taken Veras, his Stag.

Ike shuts his book with a snap and turns around to land on his feet, adopting his humanoid form, undistinguishable from normal people. “Almost there,” he says, causing Kyle to double check if his hood is properly covering his hair and ears.

It’s taken them three days to get to this village, Starks Haven, at the old border between kingdoms, and Kyle is sure his father’s men are right behind him, ready to drag the rebellious prince back to the capitol, to be yelled at by both the king and queen.

Behind closed doors of course.

As they enter the village, Kyle heaves a big sigh. He had hoped that the rumors of the states of the human villages weren’t true, but from the looks of it, the situation is worse than what Ike had described to him.

There are barely any adults in the village, children running around dirty and all skin and bones. Shattered windows and broken rooftops make Kyle worry his lower lip, thinking of the approaching winter. Hollow eyes follow Kyle wherever he goes, as if they know who he is despite covering himself up.

When a slightly older boy pulling a cart full of firewood approaches, Kyle calls out to him.

“Excuse me, can you tell me where all the adults are?” he asks, but the boy just stares at him, and points towards the west.

“The town square is in that direction,” Ike mumbles to himself, and Kyle and Stan share a look, upon which Stan grabs an apple and a coin from the saddle bag and hands them over to the boy, thanking him for the information.

 

“I know that you are tired,” M smiles, sinister to some, reassuring to others. “I am tired too. Tired of being treated like the dirt on the boots of the more fortunate. Tired of having our hard earned food taken from us. Of paying double taxes compared to the next village over.” He stands on a platform, bow in one hand, hood over his face, concealing his identity but the crowd doesn’t care who’s face is behind the mask. 

Each sentence is met with a cheer. It’s the same in every village, but this time it’s different. This isn’t just poor villagers sick and tired of the situation and making a stand. Gathered here, disguised as paupers and farmers, stands the former nobility of Kupa Keep.

Paladin Butters represents his order, who stand ready to attack at a moment’s notice, holed up in the mountains. Tweek the Barbarian, showing support from his people, down in the swamps. Lady Wendy, of the dessert Amazonians representing her Queen, Bebe. 

It has taken ten long years, but M is finally ready. He throws a glance towards the man standing next to him, smiling encouragingly as he makes his speech.

M isn’t sure whether he should trust the man calling himself the grand wizard. Isn’t sure how anyone could have survived the attack at the castle all those years ago.

But for the first time, he has the support of magic, and against elves, he’s going to need that.

“Ten years ago, control over our own lands was brutally wrestled away from us,” he bellows over the crowd, “ten years ago, an unprovoked attack killed almost our entire royal family.”

M takes a deep breath. “For ten long years, we have endured discrimination, abuse, and exclusion. All because we have different ears and shorter life spans.” M had never though he would be good at riling up the masses, but here he is. Then again, these masses were already pretty riled up to begin with.

“Well I say, NO MORE!” M bellows, raising the bow above his head.

The cry is chanted throughout the square, and behind the mask, Kenny feels a tiny bit of pride. She could care less about the throne. She’s just happy to see that her people can stand as one. And that they have allies.

She would smile and cheer with her people, but that doesn’t fit the image of M she has built up. The people don’t rally behind the fallen princess, they rally behind M the anonymous hero that protects the people and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.

It isn’t until M steps off the platform that he notices Red waiting for him.

“We found some outsiders looking at the meeting, one of them was an elf.” Red’s face scrunches up as she says the word, and M feels a sudden apprehension; it isn’t going wrong already, is it? “Got him at the Tavern. Not sure what he was up to, but wouldn’t want the knife-ears knowing we’re up to something if one of them suddenly disappears. He looked pretty well to-do.”

M just nods and starts to make his way over.

 

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Stan groans, pulling at his chains.

“No you wondered if it was a good idea, there’s a difference,” Ike counters, calmly on his chair, arms hanging limply behind his back as if he was in this position simply because he thought it comfortable.

Kyle grits his teeth, rattling his chains as well. He would wonder why a tiny little village like this has magic suppressing chains, but the rally at the town square makes that unnecessary.

A full scale rebellion. They have a full scale rebellion on their hands and all his father cares about is finding the stick of truth, convinced that the humans have it somehow.  It makes no sense, only one in every two thousand humans has magic in the first place, finding a human mage strong enough to wield the stick is a near impossibility.  

The lock in the door clicks and a slim figure in a hood enters.

“Oh, looks like you’re getting your wish after all,” Ike remarks dryly,as the figure steps into the dim light and a green M on his tunic becomes visible.

“Shut up,” Kyle grits out.

“Yeah, not funny, dude,” Stan adds.

Silence falls as the trio observes M and he seemingly observes them.

Eventually M clacks his tongue and murmurs something that sounds vaguely like, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Kyle can’t be sure if M is just referring to his ears or that he recognizes him on a more specific level, but he feels increasingly exposed with the hood off.

The question is answered soon though, as M seems to collect himself.

“What the _fuck_ is the Crown Prince of Larnion doing all the way out here?” M asks, and it suddenly occurs to Kyle that his voice sounds fake, like it’s distorted somehow.

“Why the hell is the leader of the rebellion hiding behind a mask like a coward?” Ike counters, and Kyle wishes he could turn the snark on his elemental off in moments like this. He can be a total brat sometimes.

M glances at Ike, “If I wanted the opinion of an artificial life form, I would have told you.”

Ike looks like he wants to keep bickering, but a slight twitch of muscles near the surprisingly delicate jaw of M tells Kyle that they need to placate this guy, quickly, if they want to get out of this village in one piece. In a split-second decision, Kyle decides to tell the truth.

“I heard rumors that the villages of Zaron are in terrible shape. My sources in the capitol wouldn’t let me confirm, so I came to look myself.”

“Where did you hear these rumors?”

Kyle jerks his head towards Ike. “He travels around and sees the world that I can’t observe myself.”

“And if you deem it necessary, you go look yourself?”

Kyle grits his teeth, “Yes.”

“And after seeing the state of the village, and hearing the rally, what do you think?”

Kyle falls silent as he thinks on it. There are parts that don’t add up.

M speaks of an unprovoked attack, his father says the humans struck first, that they hide the stick of truth, given to them for safekeeping only.

His father says the human citizens are treated equally, this town’s state suggests otherwise.

M speaks of rebellion, and the masses follow his call, but Kyle compares their skinny postures to those of the soldier back home, and he feels that a repeat of ten years ago is inevitable.

“I think you should try to negotiate before doing anything drastic,” Kyle hears himself say, and the stunned looks on the faces of Ike and Stan tell him they are just as surprised as he is. The hot-head prince, calling for negotiations.

But Kyle doesn’t want to be his father, who always judges things at first sight and never changes his opinions. He feels that humans aren’t fit to govern themselves, but Kyle knows for a fact there are plenty of human kingdoms doing just that.

“What?” M asks, as if he doesn’t believe he heard correctly.

“I think negotiations are possible. If all the human villages are like this, it’s completely unacceptable and a failure of the crown. I get that you are fed up with being treated the way you are, and that is on the elves, but if you start a rebellion with fighting, without trying to negotiate first, than all the blood, on both sides, is on your hands.”

 

“Are you sure about this?” Feldspar asks M as they watch the three strangers disappear into the woods, a letter from M addressed to the King secured in one of the prince’s saddlebags, “They would have made great bargaining chips.”

“I honestly don’t know,” M sighs and turns, walking into a hut at the edge of the village.

Feldspar follows M into the hut that no one knows is occupied by M except for a few chosen. “Then why’d you let them go?”

The hood comes of and is dropped on a chair, and Kenny turns to look at Craig as she frees her hair from the tight plait it is in whenever she needs to be M. “Because he saved my life, once.”


	3. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kyle succumbs to a fever while recovering from wounds, he dreams of times spent with Kenny.

Kyle gasps for breath as he wills his legs to push him forward. Beside him, he can hear Stan do the same. Kyle can feel Ike’s location through their mental link, but even the ice elemental can’t hold the horde following them at bay for long.

The negotiations had gone wrong. Very, very wrong.

He misses a step as his vision goes blurry, plummeting to the ground. A stab of pain pierces his already wounded shoulder as he lands on it.

Within a second, Stan is next to him, pulling him up, dragging him along, but Kyle is quickly losing sense of his surroundings, and where he’s going.

He is vaguely aware that his mental connection with Ike is cut, indicating that the elemental has retreated to the nether realm to recuperate. It isn’t much later that the hand guiding Kyle disappears as well, leaving him struggling to move. At that point he isn’t sure why anymore, he just feels the urgent need to keep moving.

Just before Kyle blacks out he thinks he sees a flash of gold in the dark forest.

_Kyle is already changed for bed when he catches sight of Princess Kenny on his balcony. He starts to call out to her, but she shakes her head, pointing at the servants preparing Kyle’s bed, and winking. Kyle gives her his best eye roll in response._

“What should we do with him?”

Kyle doesn’t recognize the voice talking, can’t seem to command his eyes to open either.

“He is no danger in this state, let’s just take care of him. That’s what any decent person would do.”

Strange, the second voice washes over him like a blanket of warmth, but the darkness is pulling back at him.

“He _is_ very ill.”

Kyle gives in.

_As soon as the last of the servants leaves, Kyle is out of bed. He runs over to the door to let Princess Kenny in._

_“What are you doing here?” he asks._

_The princess giggles softly, and places a finger over Kyle’s lips. “Shh. We don’t wanna get caught.”_

_Kyle repeats his question in a whisper._

_“It’s a clear night, let’s look at the stars together.”_

Kyle can feel someone touching his shoulder, pain shooting through it despite the feather-light contact.

“Infected after all, huh,” someone mumbles to themselves. That voice that feels like a warm bath. They sound worried, and Kyle wants to tell them it’s okay, but he still can’t get his body to move. Kyle struggles for a while, but it isn’t long before he allows unconsciousness to claim him again.

_“Tell me about the stars,” Kenny says, eyes full of wonder._

_Kyle looks next to him, where Kenny sits on the balcony railing and starts to tell her about all the constellations._

_It isn’t until halfway through an exhaustive explanation of the constellation of Teldrassil, that Kyle notices a shiver running through Kenny. He shrugs out of his dressing gown, leaving him in his sleep wear._

_Kenny gives him a happy smile when he drapes the gown over her shoulders._

_“Aren’t you going to be cold now?” she asks._

_Kyle huffs, crossing his arms to hide that he is already trembling. “Boys don’t get cold.”_

“He’s shivering, can’t we get him another blanket?” Kyle doesn’t feel cold though, he feels hot. He wishes that whoever is taking care of him would take some of the furs covering him away instead.

“His temperature is too high as it is, we need to handle the infection before he will improve.” That is a new voice, Kyle is sure he hasn’t heard that one before. “I wonder what he was doing in the field with this fever though, he was definitely already sick before he was wounded.”

“I can think of a few reasons,” the warm voice sounds exasperated.

_They talk for hours, moving inside when Kyle feels he won’t be able to hide his shivering any longer. There, they sit in the window sill, which they loaded with the pillows and blankets from Kyle’s bed, staring out over the city. It’s the first time they can talk without constantly interrupting themselves in order to run away from the guards. The pale light from the moon and stars give the princess’s hair an ethereal glow, and while it’s not the first time Kyle thinks Kenny is pretty, it’s the first time he tells her so._

_The way her face lights up at the compliment only enhances her face, and Kyle feels a strange sort of pride at the effect his remark caused._

“You know, If you had been a man, and our patient had been a woman, staring at them like that would have earned you the title pervert.” The voice sounds vaguely familiar, and Kyle tries once again to command his body to move.

“Can you blame me?” Over all the times Kyle has been nearing conscious, there is one voice that has always been there. Kyle doesn’t mind, the voice feels warm, safe even.

“Nah, he _is_ awfully pretty.”

Kyle hopes he is as incapable of blushing as he is of moving.

_After a while, princess Kenny starts nodding off, and Kyle suggests she return to her chambers. While she denies being tired at first, he soon notices that she has fallen asleep in the window sill._

_Kyle considers calling the guards to help move the sleeping princess back to her room, but then decides he doesn’t want to be yelled at in the middle of the night, so he just gazes at the way the starlight falls on Kenny’s face, eventually nodding off himself._

“He’s been restless lately.”

The moment Kyle becomes aware, he knows something is different this time. He briefly feels something touching his forehead.

“Well, his fever has gone down, hopefully it’s a sign he’ll wake up soon.”

He doesn’t feel as trapped in his own body as before, and while moving his limbs still feels like moving through quicksand, his eyes open when he tells them to.

The room he is in is dark, a faint glow coming from somewhere beside him. There are two women in the room with him. One sitting on a stool next to his bed, reading a book, the other rinsing a cloth in a basin.

The thatched roof suggests human architecture, and while both women wear their hair down, Kyle can only assume they are humans as well.

“Ah, Karen, looks like he woke up.”

Kyle’s eyes meet those of the woman sitting next to him, and if he wasn’t already motionless, he would have frozen in place at her face. As it is his breathing halts, and he can feel himself getting pulled back to sleep. He doesn’t want to go this time though, and with his last bit of energy, he manages to get a single word out.

“Kenny?”

_When they wake up the next morning, it’s to the scream of Kyle’s chamber maid. It turns out that the whole castle has been searching for Kenny since dawn. It gets Kyle and Kenny both an earful, not just for the scandal of a princess sleeping in one of the guest’s rooms, but also for sleeping on the window sill._

_Their saving grace is when Kenny’s mother points out at they are only children, and that nothing could possibly have happened._

_They are both warned not to try and hide from the staff again, as it interferes with their work. It takes less them an hour after breakfast for Kyle and Kenny to lose the guards. They spend hours in the gardens chasing each other._

_It’s the last time they do._

The second time Kyle wakes up, daylight streams into the room, and only one of the two women is in the room.

She is covered in dust, grime and dirt, dulling her blond hair and enhancing the already sun darkened look of her skin. Her dress is patched up in multiple places and her hands show the signs of manual labor.

“Good morning, sir elf,” she says, when she notices he is awake. “How are you feeling?”

Kyle frowns, the warm voice finally has a face, and yet something still feels wrong. He tries to sit up, but his shoulder stings, and the lady needs to help him. When he speaks, his voice creaks with disuse. “Where am I? What happened?” It probably sounds more hostile than he intends it.

The woman frowns, but humors him. “We found you at the edge of our village, wounded and fevered. You’ve been here for two weeks, your fever got worse before we could get it to go down. The wound on your shoulder was infected.”

Kyle looks down to realize that he isn’t wearing a shirt, and that the shoulder that keeps stinging is bandaged.

“We’ve been hiding you from the village, with the rumors of the peace talks failing, there’s no telling what they’ll do to an elf.”

Kyle shoots further upright. “The negotiations!”

In a flash, it all comes back to him.

Two years. _Two years_ had the humans been negotiating about better treatment of their kind, and the possible reclaiming of their lands. Two years that basically consisted of Kyle running back and forth to keep all party’s involved satisfied.

Two years of explaining to his father that he couldn’t just make his country bigger just because he felt the other royal family incompetent (and to be honest, Kyle isn’t entirely sure he believes that story in the first place), that there was no concrete proof that the stuck of truth was anywhere in Zaron anymore, and explaining to the humans that without a proper government in place, they couldn’t become independent again. That they needed some form of leader. M isn’t willing to be that leader, and Kyle will drop dead before he lets anyone unworthy sit on the throne originally meant for his childhood friend.

Two years of working his bloody ass off and then Kyle was excluded from one of the most pivotal meetings so far. And why?

Because he had a cold.

Kyle tries to get off the cod, but gentle hands push him back. “Whoa there, careful. You don’t want to reopen that wound.”

“But I need to get back! Who knows what will happen if I’m gone this long.”

An uncomfortable expression crosses her face. “What do you mean?”

The reality of the situation dawns on Kyle. He’s in a human settlement, without his guard, not enough energy to summon Ike, and surrounded by humans that apparently aren’t elf friendly. The lady that took care of him might appear sympathetic now, but who knows what she really thinks of his kind?

“Where am I?” he asks again.

The woman casts him an evaluating gaze, and Kyle thinks she won’t answer him. “This is the village of Stark’s Haven. You are near the border between Zaron and Larnion.”

Kyle grits his teeth. This is bad. Really bad.

Any human settlement is most likely dangerous to elves, but this is the home base of the rebellion, though they were never able to figure out why. Not only will they definitely not be friendly to him here, they will also recognize him from his visit two years ago. The woman that saved him probably also knows who he is.

On the other hand, M, the leader of the rebellion, knows his role in the negotiations, so if he manages to contact him, he might still be able to fix this.

“Fuck…”

Kyle goes over his options, but he doesn’t get very far. He could ask to meet with M, but if the girl is right, and the negotiations really have gone south (he wouldn’t be surprised, his father has the tendency to screw his hard work up when he’s not around), that might just spell his doom.

“You’re the prince of Larnion, aren’t you?”

So she _does_ know who he is. Kyle keeps his expression guarded as he finds the woman’s gaze again, but she doesn’t appear hostile.

“If you already knew that, why did you help me?”  he asks.

“Because some of us were truly hoping that the negotiations would work out,” she says, a sad smile on her face. It makes Kyle remember the last time he was awake, and the only word he managed to utter then.

The woman’s appearance is utterly wrong, he realizes.

Her hair should glitter like the sun.

Her skin should be suntanned not burned.

She should be wearing silk dresses, if only to complain about the impracticality of it.

“Kenny?” he searches her face, waiting for a signal. Any sign that he is right.

“Hello Kyle,” Kenny says, her smiling turning gentle. “It is good to see you again.”


	4. Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle tries to get used to being king after his father's demise when a nightly visitor hand him some important reading material.

“Your majesty, we really need you to make a decision on troupe movement.”

Kyle hates being king. Returning from Stark’s haven to find his father had been killed after the negotiations had gone wrong was bad enough. Finding out his mother had broken off al further chances of peaceful solutions, rallying the armies and imprisoning all human servants in the palace, including Stan, was a nightmare.

Kyle has been working to correct the damage ever since, but communication with the humans has become utterly impossible. M has disappeared into thin air, none of his messages to Kenny seem to be going through, and the humans have adopted a shoot-on-sight protocol. The only good thing that had come out of it was that Kyle managed to somehow convince Kenny to step forward as the true heir to the throne before he left Stark’s Haven, but with communications cut, he has no idea where she is, or if she is even the one making the decisions.

“Post troupes in the villages closest to the human army. They are not to engage unless absolutely necessary. Defending the people is priority number one. Send messages to the barbarians and the paladin order, perhaps negotiation can still take place through them.” Kyle sighs and slumps on the throne as soon as his commander leaves the room.

“I still think you should send me to Stark’s Haven,” Stan says from next to him, reappointed as his personal guard as soon as he returned to the palace.

“I can’t do that, Stan. I need you here.” Kyle feels like a broken record. “You’re too important to risk in such a way, what if shoot-on-sight counts for you too? What if the princess is not the one making the decisions?”

“We need to communicate somehow though, even after you declared Zaron independent again, the hostility didn’t end. Nobody knows what’s going on in there since the borders closed.”

Kyle sighs. “I know, but I can’t leave myself open here either.”

In the end, the communication through Zaron’s allies doesn’t reach their its target either, though not for the reasons Kyle expected. It turns out that the borders with other countries are closed as well. When both the barbarians and the amazons send representatives, Kyle welcomes them with open arms, hungry for any information he can get.

Lady Wendy, right hand to Queen Bebe, informs Kyle that the last information she got from her spies in Zaron is that Princess Kenny is to be crowned Queen in a weeks’ time, confusing Kyle further.

Kenny didn’t seem to want a war any more than he did when she was caring for him, so why is her army acting in such a violent manner now? And where is M? And who is the advisor Kyle keeps hearing about, who appears to be spouting anti-elf propaganda wherever he goes.

Kyle is reading the days reports in his personal study when he hears a metallic clang on his balcony.

He reaches for his sword, and gets up quietly. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

A shadow appears in front of the door, and it opens to reveal a human with dark clothes that seems vaguely familiar to Kyle.

“Are you the King of Larnion?” Kyle is sure he has heard that flat, nasal voice before.

“This _is_ my private study, it would be a problem if I wasn’t,” he answers, fingers tensing on his sword as the figure enters the room.

When the light reaches the man, however, it becomes clear that Kyle needn’t fear an attack, for he is covered in wounds. Kyle raises his eyebrows, only becoming more impressed that he managed to sneak into the inner workings of the palace in such a state.

“My name is Feldspar.” The man staggers, but refuses help as Kyle makes a move towards him. “I have something to show you.”

The name rings a bell, and Kyle remembers where he has seen this man before.

“You are one of Kenny’s friends,” he says, and Feldspar frowns.

“Yes,” he says.

“Why not just show it to her?”

The question earns Kyle a glare, and Kyle notes that Feldspar hasn’t been using proper etiquette with him at any point in their interactions.

“You’ll understand once you see what I have for you,” he says, “besides, do I _look_ like I can make it to Kupa Keep in this state?”

Feldspar reaches into his satchel, and offers a dark leather bound book. Kyle considers that this could be a trap, some cursed text to kill any person that attempts to read it, but Kenny trusts this man, and Kyle would rather die trusting in Kenny than face a future where he missed an opportunity because he _didn’t_.

He places his sword back in its scabbard, takes the book from Feldspar’s hand, and sits down.

“I’m going to call someone in to look at your wounds while I read this,” he says, and when the thief opens his mouth in protest, he adds, “Kenny will never forgive me if I let you bleed out in my study, just because I have interesting reading material.”

This shuts the man up, and when Kyle suggests having paladin Butters, a man familiar to Feldspar, treat him, he agrees.

By the time Kyle opens the old book in front of him, he is alone. The book has a weathered red leather cover, but no title. When he opens it, he is surprised to find it written in an atrocious handwriting. It takes him longer than it usually takes him to read the first page, but when he does, he concludes it is a diary. One that is positively dripping with hate towards the drow elves and a vileness in general that Kyle doesn’t believe he has ever encountered before, but which is otherwise uninteresting.

Baffled at why Feldspar would think it important to give him this, he leafs through the pages idly until a note falls out.

_This is the Diary of Grand Wizard Cartman, leader of the wizard order and, at one point, mediator to the treaty negotiations between Zaron and Larnion. He currently acts at chief advisor to Kenny._

_Read marked pages especially._

Kyle frowns further, remembering the Grand Wizard from his childhood magic lessons, always mocked by him for his weak attempts at magic, not allowed to show the Grand Wizard the things he excelled at. As far as Kyle remembers, Cartman disappeared after the fall of Kupa Keep, the wizard order taken over by some obscure lord no one ever heard of.

This could be very bad though, Kyle always knew Cartman didn’t like him, but he never realized his hatred extended to his entire race.

He turns to the first marked page, dated over twelve years ago.

_Observed the lessons of the little daywalker prince today, squirt is much quicker than his father, and will be much harder to manipulate in the future. Must complete plans sooner than anticipated._

_Might as well, fucking elves have been a thorn in my eye for long enough._

_Have suggested a union between the prince and the little girl of the McCormick, to bolster the relations between Zaron and Larnion. Fools loved the idea. It gives me the opportunity to confirm whether the stick is in Kupa Keep._

_It used to be a dream, but it’s a matter of pride now. The stick should be mine. _

Kyle sits frozen in his chair, not quite sure how to react to the new information he’s getting. All along this has been about the stick of truth.

It’s always about the stick of fucking truth.

Kyle has never seen the stick in action, but knows from what his father told him that the staff that his grandmother, High Elf Queen Cleo Broflovski, created using the very magic Kyle isn’t allowed to show outsiders, is the most powerful magic device in the world.

It was once thought that those that have the stick, control the universe.

After a long and brutal war, it was decided to give the stick to the only royal family without a single drop of magic in the bloodline for safe keeping, and it had been given to the McCormicks of Zaron.

After the fall of Kupa Keep, no one has seen the stick.

Kyle sighs, and reads the next marked page.

_It is true!_

_The knife ears gave the stick to the royal family of Zaron! Now my plan can go into action._

_I have already begun to sow doubt between the two kingdoms. Suggested to the McCormicks that the crown prince is a disagreeable child. It’s true, he always finds a way to offend whichever princess they pair him with. He’s bound to insult Princess Kenleigh as well._

_Spies in the staff suggested the prince has an allergy to lavender of all things. Didn’t know this, must investigate, might be a subtle route to get rid of him._

_The stick will be mine. Its power will be mine._

Kyle doesn’t bother analyzing this part, opting to skip ahead to the next marked page.

_Phase one of the plan is complete. I have the stick._

_In the end it was unexpectedly easy to convince the elf king that the McCormicks had lied to him all along._

_I convinced Princess Kenleigh that Kyle’s magic was something special to see (it’s not, it isn’t bad per se, but to a kid from a magicless kingdom like hers, everything is awe inspiring), and she convinced him to show off to her._

_It's really fortunate I decided to teach the daywalker wind magic without telling his father, since all it took was to point out the leaves blowing around Kenleigh to convince the knife ear king that the McCormick's had been concealing their magic all along._

If only Kyle could show this to his father. To show him that the humans never had the stick to begin with. That his whole reign had been pointless.  

Kyle has never agreed with this war, never wanted it, and now it seems even more irrelevant.

The next part doesn't make it any better.

_Slight change in plans is needed. Turns out that Princess Kenleigh has survived the fall of Kupa Keep. Can't take the throne of Zaron if she can start a rebellion, too big a risk._

_Must make sure she survives to raise a rebellion against elves instead, will be much easier with a charismatic little puppet like her at the head. The knife ears are suspicious enough of Zaron without me fanning the flames on that side. All I need to do now is wait for my puppet to grow up, and allow the elves to sow the seeds of hatred themselves._

_New plan will take a lot of time, but the outcome will put me in a much better light than the original one._

_After all, the heroic avenger of the princess, tragically assassinated during her own coronation, makes for a much more loved king, than an opportunistic usurper ever could._

Kyle feels his blood run cold, he needs to warn Kenny.


	5. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle tries desperately to find a way to save Kenny from Cartman's plans.

The moon gives just enough light to make out the trail as Kyle leans towards the head of Veras, asking in a single high-elven word to go just a little faster. The stag complies, and Kyle keeps his focus on the narrow path ahead, uncaring for the twigs and leaves slapping him in the face.

He can hear Stan cursing behind him, tired from the continuous journey, but his friend and bodyguard makes no other complaint. Kyle is thankful for it, he knows they should probably rest, but he _needs_ to reach Kupa Keep before the coronation.

He is taking a big gamble, leaving the palace in the hands of his mother, running straight into hostile territory with only Stan as back-up.

Well, if all goes according to plan, Wendy, Butters, Tweek and Feldspar are meeting up with them at the keep. They should have a much easier time sneaking into Zaron due to being human. For now Kyle and Stan are on their own. A set of arms tightening around Kyle’s waist alerts him to the fact that he _does_ have another person backing him up.

They met up with Karen in Stark’s Haven, and she is the only reason Kyle isn’t lying with an arrow in his chest on the border with Zaron.

“What happened to M? I haven’t heard from him ever since I returned from recovering in Stark’s Haven.” Kyle asks.

“He became unnecessary when Kenny decided you were right, and that she should live up to her family’s responsibility,” is the vague answer she gives him.

Kyle frowns, “So, what? He just left?”

“He was never interested in ruling Zaron in the first place, he just wanted it free.”

Kyle grits his teeth. “He could at least have stuck around to make sure things stayed right, look where Zaron is now. We could use him.”

Kyle is under the distinct impression Karen is smirking behind him. “I’m sure he’s around somewhere,” she says, tone light.

As Kupa Keep comes into view, Kyle slows down Veras, fiddling with his hood to pull it up. Then he jumps to the ground, landing without making a sound, causing Stan to scoff something that sounds vaguely like “Show off”, but Kyle ignores him. He takes a few steps away from where Stan is dismounting his mare, and Sparky, Stan’s hound, is wagging his tail despite the undoubtedly exhausted state he must be in.

Kyle closes his eyes and reaches out his hand as if offering it to someone.

“Edro elin ando,” Kyle starts chanting, the words familiar on his tongue. “Daro rhîw fëa. Estellio Ainu. Vala Aiglos. Gwador Ike.”

A cold hand grabs Kyle’s, and he physically pulls Ike into this dimension. He must be doing it with more force than usual, because the ice elemental stumbles on his landing, throwing Kyle a glare.

“Come on, let’s go,” Kyle grumbles without sparing Ike a second glance, but Ike isn’t the type to let that slide.

“Hello to you too, fucktard,” he says, his slightly translucent body lifting into the air to start following Kyle. In a much lower volume, he adds, “Brother in all but blood, my ass.”

Kyle turns on Ike, sneering, “Well _excuse me_ for not having time for pleasantries, Ike, we have work to do.”

Kyle pivots to start walking again, but Ike’s face appears upside down, inches away from his own. “Cool the fuck down,” Ike accentuates the remark with a puff of snow in Kyle’s face, “Your mood is screwing up our mental link. I can’t know what you want from me if your mind is in this much chaos.”

Kyle blanks out for about ten seconds, Stan’s snickers at his expense not even registering, before snapping out of his daze.

“Fuck, sorry Ike, that can’t have been pleasant.”

“It still isn’t, but at least I get what’s going on now.”

Stan steps up next to them as Ike slowly turns and lands. “So, what now?” he asks.

“I scout ahead to see if the others have gotten to the meeting point yet and if it’s safe for you to approach the keep,” Ike says without missing a beat, his mental connection with Kyle now stable enough to know what is expected of him. “Meanwhile, you rest, this is the last chance you’re getting. The ceremony is at noon tomorrow.”

Kyle makes to argue, but Stan jumps off his mare with a relieved groan. “I thought I’d never feel the ground beneath my feet again,” he says dramatically, sinking into a cross-legged position and sparky immediately at his side. Kyle feels a stab of guilt. He’s been pushing his companions to the brink ever since leaving the palace. He shoots a glance towards Karen, but the human girl sliding off his stag seems oddly energetic.

They decide against making a fire, eating hard bread and cheese. None of them sleep, except for maybe sparky. Kyle is too agitated to even consider it, Karen smiles while admitting she dozed off while traveling, and Stan claims he can’t leave Kyle unguarded (Kyle makes fun of him for it, but he stays awake nonetheless). They go over the plan instead, then share stories of Kenny until Ike mentally signals it is safe to proceed.

They meet up with Feldspar, who shows them an underground entrance to the keep.

“Just follow the tunnel, it should bring you to the inner courtyard, from there—”

“I know the layout of the castle, but thank you,” Kyle says.

“Then I will leave and join the distraction effort.” Just like that, the man is gone again. Stan raises his eyebrows at Karen, who shrugs.

“Craig’s always been like that,” she says, as they make their way through the tunnel.

“His name is Craig?”

“I sincerely hope you didn’t really think his name was Feldspar.” Karen’s grin reminds Kyle of Kenny, who has visibly rubbed off on her adoptive sibling.

Kyle grins right back, “No, but come on, Craig? That’s so…”

“Lame?” Karen supplies.

“I was going to say normal sounding,” Kyle says, suppressing a very unroyal snicker. “Not what you’d expect from a famous thief.”

Karen agrees with a giggle, which is cut short by the sound of movement ahead.

Nothing appears, but it is enough to remind Kyle of the urgency of his mission, and they move through the rest of the tunnel as fast as they can without making too much noise.

When they emerge from the tunnel, Kyle needs to pull Karen back in immediately. The entire courtyard it patrolled by guards, blocking the servant’s entrance they had planned on using.

“What now?” Karen whispers.

“We wait for the distraction,” Kyle answers, giving Ike the mental signal to start.

It doesn’t take long before the sounds of chaos can be heard from the opposite direction of the keep, shouts of an ice demon reaching the courtyard within minutes. Most of the guards leave their posts, running to aid the defense.

Two guards stay near the doors though, and Kyle bites his lips as he tries to come up with a plan.

His eyes fall on the rose labyrinth.

“We need to get to that maze,” he says.

“Done,” Stan replies, and sprints out of the tunnel, sparky on his heels, before Kyle can think to protest.

“Fucking idiot,” Kyle says as he grabs Karen’s hand and starts sprinting towards the rose bushes, where he made the second exit, all those years ago. From the other side, it will be a simple climb to the room he used when he was ten.

Kyle and Karen stalk through the labyrinth, Kyle counting his blessings that he remembers the exact shape.

However, the moment he takes a single step passed the exit, an arrow lands next to his foot.

“Don’t move.” The gravelly voice can only belong to one person, and as Kyle looks up, he meets eyes with M.

“I need to talk to Kenny,” Kyle says, not moving an inch.

“You can’t, she’s busy,” M says, voice cold, reaching for a second arrow, and Kyle hones in on M’s stance.

Ike may have been joking when he said Kyle wanted to prove his archery against the masked man, but Kyle _had_ always been curious about the skill he heard so much about.

Even after two years of cooperation, Kyle has never seen Mysterion handle his bow.

Looking at it now, Kyle feels the rumors are justified; M’s stance is flawless.

Kyle takes his own bow off his back, grabbing an arrow. “It is important.”

The second arrow somehow dislodges Kyle’s hood without touching him. “Don’t care.”

“She is in danger,” Kyle tries again, unwilling to shoot at the person he thought was his ally.

“She knows.” In a flash, a third arrow comes flying at Kyle, too fast to react, it leaves a cut in his cheek.

Kyle realizes M’s stance isn’t just flawless, it’s elegant.

He has only ever seen one person make archery look quite like that.

To test his theory, he sends an arrow flying in M’s direction, but she shoots the arrow out of midair.

_She knows_ , echoes in Kyles mind.

“I see,” Kyle says, hoping that he is conveying that, no, he doesn’t understand at all. Why did she hide this from him? Why all the mystery?

“Someone once told me you want to prove you are as good as me, annoying little artificial lifeform.” She is still using the M voice, and a part of Kyle wonders how she is doing that. “Why don’t we find out.”

Even before the arrow starts flying towards Kyle, he knows that this time he will either need to dodge, or replicate M’s former shot.

Kyle has had years of practice though, and while he will probably never reach the level M is displaying, shooting arrows out of the sky is possible for him, even in the dark.

He thinks he sees the ghost of a smile underneath the hood before he feels a sting in his neck.

Kyle grasps his neck and turns to see Karen, holding a single needle. “I’m sorry, Kyle,” she says, “You will understand soon.”

 

 

“Stop fussing, you’ll mess up your hair,” Queen Bebe chides as she stands next to Kenny, soon to be Queen Kenleigh of Zaron.

“What if he doesn’t understand?” Kenny tries, and fails, to keep her voice light.

“Then Cartman was right all along, and the king of the elves is a fool.”

“But—”

Bebe tuts, “No buts, I did not sneak into this country to put a helpless little girl on its throne. You are a woman to be reckoned with, and from what Wendy told me, King Kyle knows that.”

“I used the King of the drow elves as an distraction though, how can he be okay with that?”

Bebe’s gaze turns gentle as she places a single hand on Kenny’s lace covered shoulder. “Hon, I love that you’re about to go through one of the most significant experiences of your life, and you are worried about whether you offended a friend.”

Kenny is about to tell Bebe that suggesting she is too invested in her friendships is _not_ the way to comfort her, when a knock sounds on the door, and Red enters.

“It’s time.”

All the way to the throne room, Kenny double checks if everything is in place. She meets eyes with Craig, who is hiding in a nook near the door, Tweek should be near the other first floor exit.

In the hall, Kenny smiles when Karen winks at her, Butters, Token and the grand wizard stand on the dais, to the side of the throne. Wendy and Bebe, disguised as ladies in waiting, walk alongside her.

A balcony encircles the entire ballroom, and Kenny scans each of the eight doors to see that, yes, one of the guards is actually frozen in his armor.

Kenny thinks she sees just an inch of dark fabric fluttering behind one of the pillars, and shoots her gaze down when a warm feeling flows through her. She doesn’t dare look up at the balcony again for the rest of the lengthy ceremony.

When the goblet with ceremonial wine is offered, she drinks it without hesitation, despite knowing it is poisoned. Kenny always knew Grand Wizard Cartman would eventually try to get rid of her. Finding his Journal and knowing the date was a relief. The problem isn’t foiling his plans, the problem is what he’ll do once all his back-ups have been exhausted.

It is not very well known, but the McCormick family isn’t fully human, and one of the special features Kenny has inherited from her orc grandmother is a complete resistance to poison.

As the seconds pass by, Kenny notices the frown on the grand wizard’s face, and she sends him a questioning glance, as if to ask if anything is wrong.

Kenny maneuvers herself through all the tricks she knows are coming, waiting for the unexpected.

Because she had been right two years ago; you need magic to fight magic, and the only ones with a better command of magic than those of the wizard order, are the drow elves.

Kenny kneels in front of Cartman, waiting for him to settle the crown on her head. Even she can feel the dark energy emanating from it, and as it grows closer and closer, she can only hope that her plan will work.

A collective gasp halts the crown’s progress, and the only warning Kenny gets is a faint swoosh before Cartman screams out, an arrow lodged in his wrist, the crown clattering to the floor. Kenny stands and drops back off the dais, caught by the two Amazonian warriors, Butters and Token barring Cartman from approaching her.

Kenny finally dares glance at the balcony again, and there, on the railing, stands M.

At least, that is what other people see.

Kenny is surprised at how well Kyle pulls the look off. Just sticking a person into M’s costume would never have worked that well. It only works because Kyle knows how to carry himself as well as she does, and he as good as she is with a bow.

Well… Almost, anyway.

Kyle locks eyes with Kenny for a fraction of a second, before jumping down to avoid a blast of fire thrown his way.

Chaos has erupted in the hall, but Kenny can only feel an inner calm, knowing that Kyle has her back. She accepts the sword Wendy is handing her, takes a moment to evaluate the crowd. Who is just fleeing, who is coming to her defense, and most importantly, who is fighting for Cartman.

The next few minutes are a haze in which Kenny barely notices getting a cut on her upper arm, and also puts her swordsmanship training to use.

The hall is emptying out, and when she looks towards the dais, she sees that Cartman is singlehandedly held off by Kyle and his elemental, she thinks its name is Ike, which keeps turning fireballs into snow.

“Fuck you, you little knife ear pet,” Cartman calls to Ike, “Where is your master? Hiding behind his mother’s skirts in Larnion?”

“And you, Kinny,” Cartman says, turning to Kyle, still dressed as M, “I don’t know how you got hold of that duplication spell in my personal study, and how you got Butters to learn it so fast, but don’t think you are fooling me.”

When Kyle glances at Kenny, he looks slightly taken aback, but then he grins, and Kenny knows that he now understands why she didn’t want him to use magic.

However, Kyle pays for his moment of distraction with a lightning strike, and Kenny feels a moment of panic as she sees her bow shatter into pieces.

Cartman is holding a dark stick of wood in his hands, knobby and twisted, and Kenny yells an unnecessary warning to Kyle, who jumps out of the way of a second strike.

“Ha! Let’s see how you can defend yourself without your precious bow, Kinny.”

Kenny gives the signal, and all her troupes run for the exits, Ike blocking them with ice.

She keeps her distance from Kyle and Cartman, knowing that she is useless in a magical fight.

In thar moment, she regrets not letting Kyle have his own weapons, the additions would have clued Cartman in on the ruse.

“Come on Kinny, give it up, you and I both know that Butters can’t keep this up much longer.”

Cartman throws another fireball, this time at Kenny herself, but it halts in mid-air, leaving Cartman gaping, looking for the source of the magic. His eyes find Kyle, hand outstretched, hood off, branch crown on his head, and Kenny finds herself wondering how he hid that under the M hood.

“You really _are_ a fool, you old fart.”

“Kahl,” Cartman sneers, turning red in the face, “Are you still a disaster at wind magic?”

Kyle grins, “Afraid so, there’s loads of other types of magic I’m pretty decent at though. And at least I don’t need to rely on the stick of truth to defeat a, what did you call me? Oh, right. An untalented little daywalker.”

This time the blast of lightning is directed at Kyle again, but it just sizzles and dies before reaching him.

“Did you really think the stick would harm the blood of its creator?” Kyle asks, and Cartman’s eyes grow wide. “Yes, Grand Wizard Fatass. It may have been centuries ago, but my grandmother made it, it can’t harm me. Not that my father knew that, he really was quite hopeless with magic for an elf.”

For a moment, Kenny thinks Cartman is literally swelling with anger, but then she realizes there are shadows surrounding him.

“Fuck, Kyle! He’s summoning something, be careful,” Ike shouts from above, but Kyle is a fraction of a second late in dodging the claws coming for him. Kenny watches helplessly as Kyle is smashed against the wall and crumples down groaning.

The giant shadow elemental destroys an outer wall with a single swing of his arm, and leaps into the air with Cartman on his back.”

“I think not, you ass-wipe. Kyle! Kick the baby!” Ike roars. Kyle is struggling to get up, standing on wobbling legs.

“You hate kick the baby.” He sounds as confused as Kenny feels.

“Kick the goddamn baby!” As he yells it, Ike converts into a tiny version of himself, sort of egg shaped and not more than a foot long.

To Kenny’s surprise, Kyle heaves a big sigh, before taking a sprint, and kicking the elemental. It causes a blast of magical energy, rocketing Ike into the sky and crashing into the shadow elemental, which explodes and evaporates.

Kenny approaches Kyle and they stand in the hole in the wall to watch as Cartman falls, supposedly to his doom, but he manages to land safely using the stick’s magic.

“We can’t let him keep that thing,” Kenny says, as Cartman starts to make his way across the plains towards the forest. “Even if it can’t harm you, it can harm others.”

Kyle sighs, “I can’t harm him though, he has spread enough anti elf propaganda that if I kill him here, there will never be peace between Zaron and Larnion.”

Kenny groans, not able to deny the truth. “I wish I had my bow.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle says, and he reaches a hand up to pluck a tiny little fruit from his crown.

He scoops a single seed out of the fruit, closing his fist around it for a second. When he opens his hand, branches are rapidly growing in both directions, and within half a minute, he hands Kenny a complete bow, pulling an arrow from M’s quiver as well.

“This bow was made using the same method as the stick of truth, it can’t defend against it,” Kyle says, a sad look on his face, still holding on to the bow. “I will need it back after you use it, so that I can destroy it. Do you understand that?”

Kenny looks into Kyle’s eyes, trying to grasp just what he is giving her. She nods, but she doesn’t truly understand until Kyle lets go of the bow, and the magic of it flows into her.

As she sets the arrow against the string, Kenny realizes she would never be able to make this shot with a regular bow, Cartman is much too far away already. She somehow knows that she will with this one though, and she pauses for just a second, wondering if she will ever regret takin this life.

She lets the arrow fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I totally stole Tolkien's Elvish, I couldn't come up with my own language.
> 
> For those that are wondering, Kyle's incantation, “Edro elin ando. Daro rhîw fëa. Estellio Ainu. Vala Aiglos. Gwador Ike.” roughly translates to: "Open star gate. Descend winter spirit. Trusted holy one. Mighty icicle. Brother in all but blood Ike."


	6. Secret dating (or whatever passes for it when you are both monarchs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle and Kenny cope with the responsibilities of their positions and consequences of their actions.

There are always people.

No matter where they go, there are always people, and Kyle is starting to hate being king all over again.

Right now, the crowd is especially large, the entire nobility of Zaron, and then some, watch as Kyle gently places a delicate crown on golden hair.

Yet no one notices when Kyle’s fingers drift to soft cheeks for a fraction of a second, or that Kenny’s hands linger on his just a bit longer than strictly necessary when he helps her stand.

Together, they turn to the crowd.

“I present you, Queen Kenleigh McCormick of Zaron,” Kyle says.

 

Kyle reaches his limit when yet another Lord approaches him with a young lady in tow.

He doesn’t quite understand how it happened, but ever since the thwarted assassination attempt, everyone thinks he has always been M. When he tried to explain, Kenny gave him a kick to the shins.

While smiling sweetly, of course.

The rebel king, they call him now, who braved his father’s tyranny in order to stand up for the people of another country, another species.

Kyle doesn’t like it, but is _does_ make fixing relations between Zaron and Larnion easier.

He could do without all the daughters thrown in his general direction, though, so he scans the room, and side-steps onto the balcony, jumping off without a second thought.

He startles a guard as he lands, but Kyle keeps walking as if foreign monarchs falling out of the sky is  a regular occurance.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind as he starts walking through the courtyards, but isn’t surprised when he finds himself at the entrance to the rose labyrinth.

His pace slows as he enters, enjoying the feel of nature around him. Kupa Keep is a gorgeous structure, but Kyle always feels more at home surrounded by nature. Even the capitol and palace of Larnion are basically a big forest, all the structures built to blend in with the trees.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Kyle jumps at the sound of the voice, turning to find Kenny looking at him with an amused expression.

“What would the people say if they saw the fearless rebel king jump like a scared little rabbit at the voice of a woman,” she says, wearing a mock serious expression.

“Probably that the Queen of Zaron isn’t just the fairest maiden, but also the scariest one.”

“Touché.”

As fake glares melt into soft smiles, Kyle realizes that they are truly alone for the first time since Kenny cared for him in Stark’s Haven, and he suddenly feels nervous.

It doesn’t matter how many secret glances they shared over the last few days, or how many hints they throw each other without anyone else noticing. Kyle needs something more tangible, something to assure him it’s not just in his head.

“What brings you to the maze?” Kyle asks, tone light.

Kenny’s smile turns somewhat sad, “Duke Donovan thought, since I revoked the banishment of his son, that I must feel favorable towards Clyde. He keeps hinting that we would make a good match.”

“I see,” Kyle tenses, “and what do you think on the subject?”

“I think, as queen, I don’t have the luxury to make any mistake when it comes to choosing a spouse.” A sad tone is laced through Kenny’s voice. “I need to pick him in such a way as to show that I am not a weak queen that needs a husband to hide behind. I can’t pick anyone the nobility or the people would disapprove of. And for the sake of my own mental wellbeing, I need to choose someone who I can stand to be around for a lengthy period of time.”

“Is this list in order of priority?” Kyle finds himself looking away, his shoulders tensing at the implications.

“That doesn’t surprise you, does it? Surely it must be the same for you.”

Kyle turns to tell Kenny he doesn’t plan on being controlled by his position in such a way, but the sad smile on Kenny’s face takes his anger away.

She is right, of course. No matter how well the humans view him in this moment, there is no way just this event will be enough to erase ten years of pain caused by the occupation of Zaron by his people.

On the flip side, the drow elves will have a hard time accepting the killer of their former king a their queen. It doesn’t matter that Kenny wasn’t the one who did it.

They fall silenct in mutual understanding, and when Kenny moves to leave, he doesn’t attempt to stop her, but a light touch on his upper arm makes him catch her gaze again, which has grown mischievous.

“But then again, we _are_ the rebel king and queen,” she says, trailing her hand across Kyle’s chest, “when have we ever done what was expected of us?”

From there, it becomes a game. One that everyone plays, yet no one but Kyle and Kenny know it.

A game to see how much they can do under the watchful gazes of their advisors and the Zaronian nobility.

Brief touches under tables, glances in hallways, meetings in secret places.

“He’s beautiful,” Kenny say, when she finds Kyle alone in the forest just outside the keep, caring for Veras.

Kyle smiles, “He has been with me for a long time.”

“Oh yes, the stag is magnificent too, but I wasn’t talking to you.” Kenny’s eyes sparkle as Kyle’s face flushes, and she approaches to stand next to Kyle, petting Veras.

She is wearing hunting gear, abandoning her silk dresses for brown leather pants and an orange tunic. The new bow in her hand a gift from Queen Bebe, the quiver sent by Queen Heidi.

They fall into silence, as they now often do when they find themselves alone. Playing their game in public is easy, gives a sense of danger and adventure they both yearn for, but their shenanigans only cover up the fact that they can’t go any further than casual flirting.

As time passes, Kyle finds himself yearning more and more for the time when being with Kenny came natural as breathing to him.

 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Kyle says as he opens the door to his balcony, finding Kenny perching on the wall.

“Teldrassil is very bright, tonight.”

Kyle looks up, “It is.”

Against his better judgement, Kyle climbs to sit beside Kenny.

“You are leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“I will miss your company.”

“So will I.” It’s the most honest they have been with each other in weeks.

“Will you choose a queen, once you are home?” Kenny asks, and Kyle would feel anger at the question, if Kenny’s voice hadn’t cracked at the word ‘queen’. He feels heartbroken instead.

“Will you choose a king, when I’m gone?”

They sit in silence, watching the stars, and Kyle thinks this is all that will come of their attraction. Heartbreak, and a longing unfulfilled.

He looks over to see Kenny trembling, much like the last time they gazed at the stars together, but this time, Kyle is sure it isn’t from the cold.

Before he can stop himself, he covers Kenny’s hand with his own, keeping it there until the shivers fade.

“I know that I shouldn’t, but I would like to give you a parting gift,” she says while turning to him, offering something in her free hand. There is a glass droplet, about an inch in length, encasing the bud of a rose, attached to a thin chain.

“It’s from our labyrinth, so you will have something to remember me by.”

Kyle knows in that moment that, no, she won’t be choosing a king when he leaves. Just like he won’t be choosing a queen. He always thought there was nothing either of them wouldn’t give for their kingdoms, but here it is. The one thing he can’t give. And so he kisses her, because he has dedicated his life to his people, will keep doing so the rest of his days, but his heart belongs to Kenny.

In the end, they keep playing their game, even after Kyle returns to Larnion. Sending hidden messages within official communication.

A mention of the position of constellations equals a hug, talks of the import of roses equals a kiss, and hidden even beneath layers of code lies a promise.

When Kenny visits his palace she gets a private tour, one that involves lots of guards tripping over roots and ends in Kyle’s private study.

They sneak off to decide once and for all who is the better archer (Kenny wins easily), and end up finding a little cave behind a waterfall in the woods.

Ike knows, of course, but other than veiled taunts, he is the best ally Kyle could have asked for, distracting his mother whenever Kyle wants to sneak off.

Karen, who is sharing the duty of commanding Zaron’s army with her brother Kevin, knows as well, but she pretends not to notice for Kenny’s sake.

Stan, bless his soul, is far too distracted by his efforts to woo Lady Wendy to notice anything, though both Lady Wendy and her queen throw Kyle knowing glances when they visit.

It takes them months of close cooperation, but eventually relations between humans and elves improve, trade between villages slowly establishes, and the borders that have technically been open since Kenny’s coronation are slowly being crossed.

No matter how Kyle looks at it, the future looks brighter than he can ever remember, but it looks brightest in his stolen moments with Kenny.


	7. Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later, just about everyone that knows Kyle and Kenny feel it is time for an intervention.

“Remind me again why I need to wear this particular, over-the-top fancy outfit again?” Kyle asks his mother for the fifth time as they make their way through the Azure Castle, Stan following along silently.

“Because you represent our people to all the Union’s leaders today, Kyle, you need to look your best,” Sheila answers patiently.

“But I see most of these people all the time, I don’t get why you want all the ceremony now, all of a sudden.”

They are visiting the Blue Coast as part of the largest international conference in decades, the first full conference of the union of truth. All seven of the autonomous peoples represented by their respective leaders.

Queen Heidi of the Blue coast, who is a close friend of Queen Bebe, joined the union despite not participating in the events surrounding the rebellion in any way. She is also hosting the first conference of full attendance, and while Kyle _has_ met her before, it was before she inherited the throne.

Queen Bebe, and her right hand Wendy, represent the dessert amazons. Bebe has taken a leader position in the group and has done a splendid job of uniting the leaders. She is also a frequent visitor to both Larnion and Zaron.

Tweek of the barbarians is not so much a king, considering the barbarians are technically a democratic society. Democratic in the sense that they can evict their current leader whenever enough people feel like it. Tweek has been leading for almost four years though, chosen to be the alpha after his efforts in securing a future beyond the swamplands to the south of Larnion. It took Kyle a while to get used to the twitchy side of the young blond, but he discovered quickly that he only twitches when he is indoors.

Paladin Leopold Stotch, otherwise known as Butters, became the commander of his holy order just two short years ago, after the former commander passed away and named Butters as his successor. He had some trouble coping with his new position at first, his sweet disposition leaving a lot of people to think him easy to use. Kenny sent Karen to coach him. It worked, and Karen never left the order afterwards. Kenny admitted to Kyle that she hadn’t expected to lose one of the commanders of her army in quite that way.

Kenny was the one to suggest the formation of the Union in the first place, arguing that close relations and proper communication could have avoided just about everything that happened between Zaron and Larnion.

The only leader Kyle hasn’t met yet, if only because separate obligations caused them to miss each other for all the former meetings, is Grand Wizard Douchebag, the new leader of the mages. While under Cartman, the mages were a closed-off group, only allowing those handpicked by the grand wizard to join. Under Douchebag, they are flourishing, inviting anyone wishing to learn into their libraries, and dedicating themselves to the purpose they were originally sworn to; the maintenance of balance in the world.

“—Are you even listening to me Kyle?” Sheila’s voice pulls him out of his musings.

“I apologize, mother, my mind wandered.”

Kyle thinks she will reprimand him, because despite Kyle being king for over five years now, he is not above getting lectures from his mother. But she just sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen during the meetings.”

Stan, who has been no use at all in his plight for more casual clothing, snickers then, and Kyle can’t help but wonder whether it’s really that funny.

They walk the rest of the way to the meeting hall in silence, but just before the guards open the door for them, Sheila calls out to him.

He halts and turns to send her a questioning glance, turning towards her fully when she approaches him.

“I want you to know,” she starts, placing her hand on his cheek like she used to do when he was little, “that I am immensely proud of the king, and the man, you have become. And I know you have always blamed Gerald for everything that happened, but I believe he would be relieved by the work you have done towards repairing the damage he caused.”

Kyle frowns. “I never did it for him.”

“I know.” Sheila smiles and reaches up to gently kiss Kyle on his forehead, another habit from the past. “And that makes me all the more proud to be your mother.”

Kyle isn’t quite sure what to say as his mother briefly hugs him, then turns to enter the hall. He is still mulling it over as he follows her, absentmindedly scanning the room to see who are present.

Only Kenny is missing.

Kyle makes his way over to where Paladin Butters is chatting with a middle-aged man in mint green mage robes and a purple cape. He must be Grand Wizard Douchebag, and while Kyle doubts his wardrobe choices (or indeed his capability to see color at all), introductions must be made.

It turns out he is a man of few words, but Butters assures him later that it doesn’t stem from an emptiness of mind or an unwillingness to communicate so much as the new Grand Wizard being an observer.

“He barely ever speaks, why, it took me four months to hear him say a single word,” he explains later.

Kyle turns to the door when the entire room falls silent, to find that Kenny has arrived. If Kyle was forced into his fanciest clothes, than Kenny truly pulled out all the stops.

She is wearing hunting gear, as she often does. Soft, light grey leather leggings under calf-high riding boots. The jacket she is wearing, however, is different from normal. It is sleeveless over and off-the shoulder top, leaving her shoulders bare, and while the front is short, the back of the jacket fans out behind her, all the way to her ankles.

Other than the leggings, he entire outfit consists of soft purples, pinks and a dash of gold, including the lavender braided into her hair.

Kyle finds his mouth drying as he observes her, and it takes a kick to the ankles from Stan for him to go find his place at the large, round table set up for the occasion.

All through the meeting, which takes hours, Kyle finds his gaze hovering to Kenny, who sits opposite him. They speak of trade, treaties, external affairs and crop yields among other things. When Kyle thinks they can’t possibly have anything else to discuss for the first day, Bebe speaks up.

“There is one last topic I would like to discuss,” she starts, tone light. “We all know of the events surrounding Larnion and Zaron that led to the formation of this Union, but in order to make it believable to the rest of the world, we need a stronger connection. We need to prove that Larnion and Zaron are allies beyond all doubt.”

Kyle catches Kenny’s eyes before answering. “Agreed, but what do you propose we do?”

Bebe seems to hesitate, looking at everyone in the room, except for Kyle and Kenny.

“I… have an idea. But I don’t think the two of you will agree to it.”

Kyle cocks an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have brought up the topic if you weren’t sure it is the right course to take.”

“I am, a union between your countries would be ideal—” Kyle opens his mouth to ask _exactly_ what kind of union she means, but her next words freeze him in his seat. “—The problem is that both you and Queen Kenleigh are overtly reluctanct to marry.”

Kyle’s world stops spinning.

“Excuse me, what?” he manages to get out.

“It’s the logical step. Marriage has long been the route to strengthening ties between countries, if the two of you marry, you will prove that true peace between humans and drow elves is possible.”

Kenny mirrors Kyle’s panicked expression when he glances at her, before her expression becomes thoughtful.

“Judging from the lack of surprise from anyone but Kyle and myself, you have already discussed this at length without us.” She says, and Kyle scans the room to find that she is right.

“Correct,” Bebe says, “and we all agree it’s the best available option.”

“And you felt that the Union gives you the right to decide the future of our nations?” Kyle asks, exasperated, but Bebe just smiles.

“Not at all, this is just a suggestion, a recommendation at most. The choice is your own, besides, the idea itself is not external, considering it came from your mother.”

Silence falls over the room yet again as Kyle turns to look at his mother, sitting beside him.

“I request this meeting to be adjourned in order to have a private audience with the Queen Mother,” he says, struggling to keep his voice steady.

The moment they are alone he turns on Sheila.

“Really, Ma? You _know_ I don’t want any of this, why would you push it into Union matters? What were you thinking?” He wants to add more to the list, but Sheila levels him a glare, still capable of shutting him up.

“I was thinking that my son is an amazing king, giving just about everything for his people,” she starts, “I was thinking that he is wise, and strong, and tries his utmost to be fair. However, I was also thinking that he is utterly miserable whenever a certain Queen isn’t around, and that he is being a complete _fool_ in not keeping her closer.”

Sheila’s gaze turns softer then.

“I was thinking that I waited five years for you to come to this conclusion yourself, but that you aren’t going to get there on your own. I may be getting old, but I am not blind, Bubbe. I can see how you look at her, how you sneak off whenever she is visiting.”

Kyle feels his face heat up, dropping his gaze away from her, only to have it lifted back up towards her by gentle hands.

“But most of all, I was thinking that I am a mother who wishes nothing more than to see her son happy.”

 

When Kyle returns to the main hall, all eyes turn to him, but he just finds Kenny’s. She stands near a window, her positioning close to Karen suggests a hushes conversation.

Kyle ignores the stares that follow him as he approaches her, only keeping her gaze locked with his.

He doesn’t speak until he is right in front of her.

“It seems we were foolish in our assumptions,” he says, tone soft.

“Nor nearly as secretive as we thought,” she adds.

“Shall we stop being both?”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“You just want me on my knees.”

“Don’t worry, one will do.”

Kyle rolls his eyes, but drops to one knee nonetheless, plucking a single lavender flower from Kenny’s hair and breaking a small twig from his crown, closing both gently in one fist.

“Queen Kenleigh, I struggle to remember a time when I didn’t think the world of you. From the very first time I saw you climb a balcony wall, I was smitten, maybe already before that. I cannot possibly imagine an higher honor than if you’d agree to be my wife.”

When he opens his hand to her, a ring lays in it, tiny interwoven branches holding the delicate, crystalized flower.

Kenny smiles a watery smile, “Do you really have to ask?” she says, offering Kyle her hand.

After Kyle slips the ring on her finger, she reaches into a sleeve, and Kyle tenses for half a second when she pulls a small dagger out, but she just lifts it to cut off one of her many tiny braids.

“You were the first boy to ever indulge my games. Never once did you suggest staying near the guards if I wanted to play. You ran across two countries to save me, and did so, even after I shot arrows at you.” Kenny turns Kyle’s hand over and wraps the braid around his finger. “It would make my nights brighter than Teldrassil ever could, if you would be my husband.”

She looks at Kyle expectantly, until he realizes she is waiting for more than a verbal answer. He covers the hand holding the braid in place with his own for a second, crystalizing it much like the lavender in Kenny’s ring.

“Do you really have to ask?” he echoes, before standing up and kissing her in one fluid motion, uncaring for the applause around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, this was so much fun to write! 
> 
> Sorry the last chapter is late, exhaustion kicked in yesterday and after I found myself waking up with my face on my keyboard after a nap of indeterminable length, I admitted to myself it just wasn't gonna happen. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the ending, imho the only presents I could possibly end this story with. 
> 
> Thanks for reading all the way to the end, and hopefully see you in some other fic!!


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